


Full House

by jujitsuelf



Series: Pretty Good Bad Men [1]
Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Cougar's just a bit baffled by it all, First Meeting, JJ's a dirty cheat, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prequel to A Pocketful o' Nothing is Still Too Much to Lose, Present Tense, Teenage Cougar and JJ, first person POV, old west au, poker games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cougar Alvarez can look after himself. He's been on his own since he got out of the orphanage he grew up in and he's not looking for any friends. No sir. Definitely not. He's a man who likes his own company and doesn't mind a bit of silence.</p>
<p>Baxter Springs is like every other cowtown. It has a saloon, drunks, poker tables and women. But it also has something Cougar hasn't seen before, something with blue eyes and blond hair. </p>
<p>Will Cougar's life ever be the same again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full House

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, massive thanks and lots of love to the awesome 3white_mage3, whose constant encouragement and beta work have made this prequel happen. And huge thanks to saral_hylor for also encouraging me all the way. 
> 
> This is a prequel to my previous Old West story, 'A Pocketful o' Nothing is Still Too Much to Lose'. Hopefully I've managed to tie it in to things I mentioned in that story but I'll just say that this fic doesn't leave off where Pocketful starts. There's more to tell about these boys in between the end of this story and the start of Pocketful and hopefully soon I'll find the words to tell all the tales I have about them.  
> **  
> Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended  
> **

The saloon stinks. It’s not unusual, most saloons stink. But this one’s got an aroma all of its own. I don’t rightly know what it is but I ain’t in a hurry to find out. 

Maybe it’s just all the cowhands pressed together. Them boys come off the trail and head straight for the bar; dust, dirt and all. Not that I blame ‘em, if I’d been out in the wilderness for weeks at a time with only cattle to look at, I’d need a drink, too. Most of ‘em probably ain’t got a change of clothes so it’s not really their fault that the saloon’s more or less humming with the smell of manure, sweat and unwashed bodies.

I lean back against the bar and sip my drink. I’m goin’ slow ‘cause I don’t know that I’ve got enough money in my pocket for another. Don’t know that I’ve got enough to get anything to eat. Maybe I’ll be goin’ to bed hungry tonight. My stomach growls in protest at the thought. Stupid thing.

Baxter Springs is just another cowtown. There’s the same hollow-eyed cowboys on tired-looking horses straggling in after days on the Shawnee trail. The same shrewd saloon girls look ‘em over and fight over who gets which man for the night. The boys drink the whiskey which tastes the same as it did in Wichita and Dodge City, then stumble to bed in the same flea-bitten rooming houses I’ve seen all over the state.

Is Texas any better? Should I head there when I’m done with Kansas? Nah, probably not. Might not be a good idea to head for a state known for lawlessness when I’ve already got a few crimes behind me. But it ain’t like I done anythin’ real bad. Stealing ain’t a crime when you do it ‘cause you’re hungry. ‘Least that’s what I think anyway. But ain’t a sheriff in the country would agree with me, probably. Maybe not Texas.

I rub a hand over my face, I’m tired. Been a hot day today and I’m ‘bout ready to drop. I’ll worry about keeping my ass out of jail in the mornin’. 

The growl my stomach gives makes the bartender look at me. I stare back, daring him to say somethin’. After a minute he shrugs and goes back to cleaning his glasses.

A voice beside me says, “That was a right loud noise, friend. You hungry?”

The hand which slides down my back sets my skin rippling with gooseflesh. I flick a glance to my right. The cowboy with the wanderin’ hand leers at me. His teeth are yellow and his eyes are small and mean. I swallow, hard. I ain’t that hungry.

I take a step away from the guy, keepin’ my eyes on my drink. I ain’t dumb enough to provoke him into a fight. He’s bigger ‘an me and I’m running on an empty stomach. I’d get my ass kicked seven ways to Sunday. I’ve got a gun tied down to my thigh but I can’t use it in a saloon, people get mad if a man starts throwing bullets around where there’s whiskey they could be drinking.

“No, sir, I’m not.” I shake my head, real firm and calm, I’m proud o’myself. 

Over his shoulder I can see a table and cards. I wasn’t thinkin’ of playing poker tonight, but it’ll do as an escape. This guy don’t look like he’s got two cents to his name, hopefully he won’t follow me. If I can stay in the game long enough he might get bored and go bother someone else, then maybe I won’t have to shoot him on the way back to the stable I’m thinking of sleeping in tonight. That’d be good. 

I throw the rest of my drink into my mouth, fight like hell not to grimace at the taste, then walk past the handsy bastard toward the game.

“Any seats free?” I ask when I reach the table.

I hate talkin’ to people, words don’t make sense to me, they get all confused in my head. Guess that’s why the ladies at the orphanage called me a ‘lone wolf’. I don’t really mind, I like being on my own, can move faster this way.

I’m already pullin’ an empty chair out from the table when I see bright yellow hair and the bluest pair of eyes I ever saw in my life.

“Guess that seat’s taken now.” The hair and eyes belong to a kid, he can’t be more ‘an sixteen, I’d say. I’m eighteen, I feel old all of a sudden. “You gonna sit down, mister, or stand there all night?”

I sit while the other players snigger at me. There’s a rough cowboy, he looks like he won’t take no shit from anybody, maybe better lose a few hands to him, just to keep him sweet. The other guy’s wearing a fancy vest and a shirt which ain’t stained brown with dust. Not a cowboy, then. I don’t much care who he is, long as he’s worse at poker than me.

“Dollar buy-in,” Blondie says, don’t know why but he sounds kinda gentle, like he knows I ain’t got much in the way of money.

It’s just my imagination but I can feel that handsy bastard’s eyes on me. I don’t much fancy standing up and walking away from this table, not just yet. It ain’t that I’m scared of the guy,  
although every man alive’s scared of something and anyone that says different is a bare-faced liar. No, I’m more worried ‘bout what I’d have to do if the bastard tries to start somethin’. I’m no killer, not yet, but somehow I don’t think it’d worry me to put a bullet ‘tween the eyes of a man who deserved it.

“If y’ain’t got the money, pal, get lost and let us play,” the cowboy growls at me.

I don’t reply, but reach down to my right boot. I been saving this, was gonna use it someday. Don’t even know what I was savin’ for but I figure a man needs to have a little in reserve, just in case of emergencies. I wouldn’t have broken into my treasure chest just to buy dinner, goin’ to bed hungry ain’t an emergency. But keepin’ those mean little eyes off my back just might be.  
The roll of money I pull from my boot amounts to ten dollars and twenty-nine cents. Not a fortune to some but to me it’s everything.

Blondie smiles and somethin’ in my chest hurts for a minute.

“Okay, then.” He sticks a hand out across the table. “I’m Jake.”

His nails are nice. Clean and not ripped to shreds or tobacco-stained. Not a cowboy either. Who is he? My own fingers tingle just for a minute, I wouldn’t mind holding on to that pink palm. I clench my hands tight round my wad of money and just grunt and nod.

“Cougar.”

“Nice to meet you, Cougar,” Jake grins. 

My chest hurts again and I think my throat closes up for a second. Damn, he’s pretty. I just nod again. Fancy-Vest laughs quietly.

“Now that we’re all acquainted, think we could go on with the game?”

“Why not?” Jake says lazily. “You need to win back the pile I just took. If you think you can.”

Fancy-Vest’s eyes darken for a second but it’s gone before Jake notices, I think. Somethin’ crawls down my spine and this time it ain’t just because of the handsy son of a bitch at the bar. I look at Jake and I swear he winks at me but it’s so fast I ain’t sure whether I imagined it.

Cards skim out across the table and I grab ‘em. Feels good to have somethin’ else to look at apart from those damned blue eyes. A man could get lost in those things.

Luck don’t completely hate me, I got three queens straight out of the deck. I know I can bluff with the best of ‘em, this face o’ mine is useful for that kind of thing. So I change two cards and try to look like I’m worried I ain’t got a decent enough hand to win the pot.

Fancy-Vest bets bigger than the rest of us, he’s reckless, I can tell that already. He curses out loud when I lay down my three queens. The cowboy snorts but don’t argue. Jake grins and I forget how to breathe.

“Beginners luck, huh?”

“Not a beginner,” I mumble, scraping my winnings toward me.

“I’ll bet.” Those eyes are on me, I know it. I don’t look up. They’re too bright and young and lively.

More cards skip over the table and we each put our ante money into the pot. 

‘Tween Jake’s eyes on me in front and that handsy asshole back at the bar, I feel like I’ve got knives goin’ into my chest and back all at once. 

I push my bet into the middle of the table at the same minute Jake’s tidying up the pot, shoving loose bills into a pile. His fingers leap over and brush mine. Did he mean to do that? I don’t know. Either way, my hand’s tingling like I fell asleep on it. I snatch it back and hold my cards real tight. Those eyes meet mine and they’re laughing even though his mouth ain’t. I let myself look, just for a minute, then go back to my cards.

It ain’t that I don’t know when a person’s flirtin’ with me. Plenty o’ girls have tried it. Couple of men as well. I usually take ‘em up on it, I like to be friendly, even though I don’t say much. But nobody’s ever looked at me like young Jake is. Somethin’ hot trickles down my spine. Kid’s got a pretty mouth.

I need another drink. But I look over at the bar and that slimy bastard’s still there, still watchin’. 

“Call.” Jake drops his money into the tidy pile and sits back, lookin’ real pleased with himself. He needs to work on his poker face. I can see every thought in his head. 

Fancy-Vest lays three tens onto the table. They beat the two pair I got in my hand. The cowboy curses and throws his cards down in disgust.

Jake grins at me and I shift on my chair. When did it get so hot in this damn place? He slowly lays his cards down and his smile gets bigger. Full house. Tricky little bugger.

I guess I should mind that he drags my money away as well as that belonging to the other guys. But his shirt sleeves slide up as he leans over the table and just for a minute I see a flash of pale wrists and forearms. Damn it, that shouldn’t be enough to get me flustered like a southern lady havin’ an attack o’ the vapors. I seen people naked before, why am I getting so wound up now?

Jake’s eyes are on me again, I can’t help but look at ‘em. Jesus. He knows what he’s doin’, for all that he’s only a kid. Somethin’ touches my leg under the table and I sink my teeth into the inside of my mouth. It’s his foot, I know it is. It leaves a tiny warm line as it trails up my calf toward my knee. He’s takin’ a hell of a chance, there’s plenty of guys who’d take offense at such a thing. Guess he knows when to be reckless. Either that or my poker face ain’t as good as I thought it was.

When I got myself back together, ot at least somethin’ like it, I raise an eyebrow at the kid. He grins at me and deals another hand. Jesus. This is gonna be a long game.

***

It feels late when the cowboy finally admits defeat. He’s out o’ money and I got a sinking feeling I’m gonna follow him before long.

“Kid,” he says, holdin’ out a hand to Jake. “I get the idea you ain’t as green as you like to paint yourself. Don’t think I been hustled that well in years.”

Jake’s got the good grace to go a bit pink around the ears at that. The cowboy laughs. 

“Compliment, kid, just a compliment. You’re a good player, you keep workin’ at it, I reckon you’ll make yourself a right tidy ball of money one day.”

“Thanks,” Jake mutters, shaking the man’s hand. 

The man picks up his hat, it’s battered and dusty and looks like it’s been lived in. I could use a hat like that. Jammin’ it on his head, he nods at me, gives Fancy-Vest a narrow look, then ambles away toward the door.

“’nother hand?” Jake asks after a minute, shuffling the cards one-handed. 

It takes me a minute to pull my eyes away from his fingers. They’re long and deft and could probably do things I shouldn’t ought to be thinkin’ about. I manage a nod, then look down at my sorry pile of cash. I won a few hands but it ain’t been a good night. Jake’s got more money in front of him than me or Fancy-Vest.

I look over at the bar, huh, the slimy son of a bitch ain’t there. Maybe he got bored and went lookin’ for somebody else to keep his bed warm. I let out a long breath. ‘Least I ain’t got to do any shooting tonight.

Somethin’ slides up my calf. I jump half out o’ my seat and Jake’s eyes laugh at me again. 

“Something wrong, kid?” Fancy-Vest asks, staring at his cards.

I frown. I’m no kid. I’m eighteen and I been lookin’ after myself for a long time now. Jake’s a kid, though I reckon that cowboy was right, he probably ain’t the greenhorn he seems to want people to think he is. Either way, I think I’m older ‘an him, so this fancy guy ain’t got no right to be throwin’ words like ‘kid’ at me.

I shake my head and glare at Jake for a minute ‘fore concentrating on my cards. Somehow I know he’s smiling.

***

With the night wearing on, the saloon gets rowdier. Everybody’s talkin’ at once and it’s a hell of a noise. Jake don’t seem bothered by it.

“Whereabouts are you from?” he asks me, his head cocked to one side like a puppy. It’s sweet. Damn it.

“Kansas,” I reply. It’s as much as I’m giving away. Anyway, I don’t rightly know where I’m from, first thing I can remember was the orphanage.

“We’re still in Kansas,” Jake says. “Can’t you narrow it down?”

I shake my head.

Fancy-Vest sighs loudly. “Are we playing poker or not?”

Jake throws him a look which ain’t got any of the laughter he’s been givin’ to me. Don’t know why that pleases me but it does. His foot inches up my leg again. I don’t even flinch this time, I’m proud o’ myself.

I win the next hand, Jake takes the one after that. Fancy-Vest’s gettin’ low on money. 

Jake grins. “Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead. Oh, wait. You’re not.”

I don’t mean to smile, shouldn’t be encouraging the kid to say things which’ll probably end with him gettin’ into trouble. But those eyes are sparkling and he’s got the devil in him, it’s easy to see. I smirk and he sits straighter in his chair. Why does he look like he just won an argument?

Fancy-Vest ain’t amused. He growls and glares at Jake like he’s somethin’ dirty on the sole of his boot. “Shut up and deal, pretty boy.”

Jake’s delighted. “Look at that, he thinks I’m pretty.”

It’s wrong to keep encouraging him but I snort. Can’t help it, it was funny. The knife which slams into the table in between Jake’s spread fingers and quivers ominously ain’t funny. 

“Now you gonna deal?” Fancy-Vest might dress like some useless dude pretending to be a Westerner but he’s good with a knife by the looks of it. Maybe he’s not a man to laugh at, after all.

Damn it, all I wanted was a quiet drink and so far tonight I’ve been pawed at, leered at, got roped  
into a poker game I never intended to join and now it looks like I might end up in the fight I’ve been trying to avoid the whole time. Sometimes I wonder whether God’s laughin’ at me. If he even exists, I still ain’t made my mind up ‘bout that.

“Well, when you put it like that...” Jake’s talking real soft, a smile on his face but not in his voice. “Seems I can’t hardly refuse, can I?”

Cards skim out, hissing across the table. The knife’s still stuck there in the wood, Jake don’t even spare it a glance. The kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that much. And he is kinda pretty.

It’s probably ‘cause I’m watching those hands and wonderin’ exactly how old he is that I see Jake deal from the bottom of the deck. Fancy-Vest don’t see it, he’s got no eyes for anythin’ other than the cards, he scoops ‘em up and stares at ‘em like he’s gonna get a royal flush or somethin’. Ha. Reckon Jakey-boy knows exactly what hands he’s dishing out. Ain’t gonna be nothing good for this arrogant asshole.

I pick up my own cards and really have to work not to smile. Son of a bitch ain’t given me anything either. A pair o’ tens, that’s it. I look at Jake and I’m sure he gives a tiny little shrug. Like he’s saying, ‘hey, not my fault, you chose to join the game, mister.’

I’m still fightin’ a smile as I fold and watch my ante money slide over into Jake’s pile of cash. Fancy-Vest looks like he just stepped on a rattlesnake. He’s got exactly one dollar and three cents sittin’ in front of him. Makes me feel rich. I got five dollars left.

Somehow I win the next hand. As I pull the money toward me, I’m sure I see something in Jake’s eyes. Why does he look satisfied? I’m takin’ his money, surely he should be pissed or somethin’. Unless he’s got this whole thing planned out an’ I’m the sucker who’s gonna take the last of Fancy-Vest’s money and push him out of the game. I’ll be the one he’ll be mad at rather than Jake. Shit. I don’t feel like a knife fight tonight.

I ain’t prone to big thoughts, like to keep things simple, see? But all of a sudden I feel like I’m watchin’ myself play from somewhere across the room. I can see that I’m workin’ real hard to keep my face clear, fighting all my tells, trying not to let anybody know when I’m bluffing or when I got a good hand. But Jake ain’t even trying. That face o’ his is the perfect mask. It shows every thought but now I realize that what I see and what’s really goin’ on behind those blue eyes are two different things. 

He’s a professional, knows exactly what he’s doing. Probably been working card tables since he was tall enough to see over ‘em. An’ right now he’s working me like I’m the simplest idiot ever born. Maybe I am. He’s gonna get me into a heap of trouble. Somehow I ain’t sure I mind that so very much. Those eyes are goddamned blue.

The next hand, Jake deals me a straight flush. I fold it without even tryin’ to bet. He looks at me, I look back. He smiles.

I get a full house next, queens over eights. I fold that too, Fancy-Vest wins the pot. Jake’s foot slides up my calf and rests somewhere round the back of my knee. I ignore it. 

I go on folding or deliberately losing till I realize I ain’t really hurting anyone but myself. I’m down to my last two dollars and if I lose ‘em, I ain’t got nothing left in the world but my saddle, my gun and my damned clothes.

My shoulders hurt, been hunched over the table too long, I guess.

Fancy-Vest curses as he gets a shit hand again. Jake’s being a little too obvious about tryin’ to get rid of him. Wonder whether he cares that it might get him acquainted with the man’s knife.  
A foot presses down on mine and I look up from my sad pile of cash and see Jake staring at me as he deals. I pick up my cards, I’m almost scared to see what I’ve got. Another straight flush.

Not easy to beat in a normal game. My money’s sittin’ in front of Jake and Fancy-Vest and damn it, I want it back. I’m too tired to go on playing games, if Jake wants me to do his dirty work for him, fine, I’ll get rid of this knife-loving bastard. 

I bet everything I have, which I admit ain’t very much. But all the same, it seems to startle Fancy-Vest. He grins at me like I’m an idiot, maybe I am, then pushes a good portion of his cash into the pot. Jake does enough to stay in the game but manages to make himself small, Fancy-Vest’s only got eyes for me. Great.

When it comes time to show our cards, Fancy-Vest does it with a flourish. Four tens, good hand. I lay my cards down nice and slow, letting him see each one as they hit the table. His face falls as he realizes I’ve won. 

“Sorry,” Jake don’t sound sorry in the least. “Looks like you’re out, mister.” He shoves the pot towards me, Fancy-Vest’s money crackling as it folds over itself.

Fancy-Vest makes a strange, strangled noise, like he’s tryin’ to find words and can’t manage it. After a minute, he takes a slow breath, grabs his knife and pushes his chair back from the table. 

“You better watch yourself, son,” he’s glaring at Jake, “pullin’ tricks like that’s gonna get you in trouble for sure.”

Jake blinks back, then smiles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just the cards, mister. Sometimes they don’t like a man, so they don’t work for him. Not my fault.” He shrugs, loose and boyish but I see his eyes flash as Fancy-Vest runs a finger over the gun at his hip.

Fancy-Vest growls, I keep my eyes on the money I just won. I look up as the man grabs a handful of my shirt and tugs.

“You’d be better off makin’ yourself scarce too, kid. He’s the one pulling tricks,” he throws a look at Jake which should leave him as a pile of smokin’ ash, then stares back at me. “But you’re  
the guy holding my money. You ain’t out of trouble.”

I look at him, real steady and quiet. I’ve used this a dozen times in the past, seems to disquiet people when a man’s just still and silent. Sure enough, after a minute, Fancy-Vest looks away and drops my shirt. He stalks off, pushin’ strangers out of his path. Last I see of him is as he vanishes through the saloon doors out into the street.

“Just you and me, then, I guess,” Jake said, real cheerful. “Another hand?”

I turn and look at him. His cheeks are pink, guess it is warm in here, and his eyes are shining bright blue again. He shuffles the cards one-handed and grins at me.

“What? You sore at me or something?”

Normally when I give people this stare they have the decency to look worried. Maybe I look like a dangerous man. Hope I do. Anyway, Jake’s whistling under his breath and still shuffling. He don’t seem worried.

“You wanna play or not?” he asks. “’Cause if not, I need to get somebody to fill your chair. Can’t play poker alone, can I?”

He’s gotten me into a man’s bad books, taken a good deal of the money I was saving for emergencies, played me for a fool by giving me hands he knew were bad (or good, but only when it suited him), why should I go on playing with him?

“Sure,” I say, rolling my shoulders. “Deal.”

He’s got nice eyes.

Jake deals an’ that foot of his slides up my leg again. How many times has he done this? Don’t know why it makes me mad to think of him flirtin’ with somebody else. I hold my cards so tight I crumple ‘em.

He cocks an eyebrow at me, I think he’s daring me to say somethin’, maybe to tell him to get that foot the hell off me. Nah, I ain’t gonna say that. I’m kinda enjoying it. A little smile makes lines appear round his eyes. I blink, think maybe he’s the best-looking thing I’ve ever seen.

I win the hand, don’t know how, I wasn’t concentrating. Jake pushes the pot over to me, scoopin’ up the stray bills. I know he does it on purpose but his fingers touch mine again as I take the money, they’re warm and I jump. He just smiles at me an’ goes back to shuffling the cards. 

My heart’s goin’ ten to the dozen in my chest, there’s a roaring noise in my ears and I think all my blood goes south in a rush. My stomach rumbles, I’m still hungry.

The next hand goes Jake’s way, so does the one after it. And the one after that. I purse my lips  
and narrow my eyes at him. I been watchin’ him deal, don’t think I’ve seen any cards come from the bottom but he’s so damn good it’s hard to tell.

“Luck deserted you?” he says, his eyes smilin’ again. “Hate it when that happens.”

I look down at my sad little pile o’ cash. Three dollars. I sigh, if I was smart I’d walk away now and get myself some dinner ‘fore I pass out from hunger. But I ain’t smart and Jake’s foot’s curled round the back of my knee again.

“Shut up an’ deal,” I mutter.

Jake laughs, he’s got all his teeth an’ they shine in the lamplight. Miracle nobody’s hit him hard enough to knock ‘em out yet. Then again, if he’s as clever at avoiding fights as he is at rigging poker games, it’s no wonder he’s still got a good smile. I worry at the loose tooth at the back of my mouth, then forget it as Jake licks his lips. Jesus. He knows what he’s doin’, I’m sure he does. I ain’t gonna get sucked in by parlor tricks, however distracting they are. I’m tougher ‘an that.

I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on the cards he just dealt me.

***

Must be gettin’ real late, saloon’s quieter now. 

Most of the cowboys have drifted off to find someplace to bed down for the night. Wonder where I’m gonna sleep? I don’t know, probably with my horse in the stables, wouldn’t be the first time she’s kept me warm all night. 

The girls are gettin’ bored, I can see a few tryin’ to flirt with the men who are left at the bar but there ain’t enough business for all of them. One wanders over to our table and drapes an arm over my shoulders. 

“Need some luck, handsome? I’m real lucky.”

She bends and stares at my cards. I can smell sweat and stale beer and cows on her. She ain’t much older ‘an me but her eyes are tired. Another night I might have been interested but right now I’m busy thinkin’ about bluffing Jake and then finding some damn food. I’m thinking about maybe kissing Jake too, but I ain’t admitting that to nobody, not even myself.

I glance up to see whether Jake’s got a girl for luck as well. There’s a redhead hovering nearby but she ain’t comin’ any closer. I can see why. The look on Jake’s face is enough to give even the bravest of men a moment’s pause. His eyes are hot and angry and his mouth’s twisted. The pink in his cheeks has gone red and he’s flushed right up to his hair. He’s been holdin’ the cards real gentle all night but now he’s bending ‘em, almost folding ‘em in half, he’s gripping them so tight.

Something in my stomach squirms. If I’m right, and I ain’t known for being wrong, young Jake’s jealous. Good. If he’s worryin’ about the girl, he ain’t thinking straight about his cards. Maybe I  
can win some money back.

I shoot the girl draped over me a smile, then flick a glance at Jake. He narrows his eyes at me. I can’t resist a smirk.

“Raise you,” I say, pushing my bet into the pot.

“Huh?” Jake’s off-balance, he ain’t thinking ‘bout the game. “Oh, yeah. Um, raise.”

It’s a big bet, bigger ‘an he’d make if his mind was on his cards. That’s good. I ain’t above playing dirty when I need to. I wrap an arm round the girl’s waist and squeeze. She giggles into my ear. Jake’s eyes get brighter.

I raise the pot again, might as well try to win as much as I can, then maybe I can get out of here. 

“Call,” Jake snaps. He’s got his mouth pressed into a thin line. For a minute I pause. I don’t know that I like that. Makes him look older. 

I let go of the girl’s waist, she bumps her hip against my shoulder to let me know she ain’t going anywhere just yet.

I’m pretty sure my cards are gonna beat his so I lay ‘em down with a flourish and even risk a smile. He smiles too, but it ain’t the smile of a beaten man. 

“Aw, look at that, you got three queens.” He shows his own cards. “Lucky for me I got three kings.”

He scoops the pot into a pile in front of him and grins at me. I’m pretty sure even the Devil never looked so gleeful.

“I’d offer you another hand but you’re kind of broke.” He looks at the girl still leaning against me. “Guess you’re not lucky at all, honey.”

She snorts and huffs, then flounces off, her friends scurrying behind her to get the gossip.

I stare at the bare table, he’s right, I am broke. Shit.

“Don’t look like I just shot your dog.” Jake’s foot slides up my leg again, real slow and gentle. “How about we have one more hand? Call it a gift, I’ll let you try to win something back.”

His eyes are fixed on mine and his foot’s stroking my calf and he’s shuffling the pack like he’s been holding cards his whole life again. The red’s faded from his cheeks, he looks the kid he is. I don’t know what he’s doin’ but I can’t breathe so well. He licks his lips again, then sinks his teeth into the bottom one. That ain’t fair.

“Sure,” I blurt. What? Why did I say that? How am I gonna play with no money?

He grins and lays down two cards. “Let’s keep it simple. Highest card wins.”

I rub my nose. “What do you want? Like you said, I ain’t got much left in the way of money.”

I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anybody look so damn wicked. That smile o’ his...damn.

“Well, looks like all you’ve got left is the clothes on your back and that gun.” He ducks his head under the table. 

I swallow real hard, Jesus. He pops back up again and I pray my thoughts don’t show on my face.

“It’s a nice gun but I already got one. So we’ll forget about that. Which leaves your clothes. I don’t usually go around betting my shirt but for you I’ll make an exception.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. He’s talking so fast and his eyes are shining. He looks like Christmas Morning always should have but never did. 

“Deal?” he asks. 

I swear he flutters his eyelashes at me. Before I know what I’m doin’, I nod. 

“Sure.” I just bet my damn shirt. What am I doing?

“Highest card wins,” he said, stroking one finger over the card in front of him. 

I have to blink a few times to get my brain and mouth workin’ properly. “Fine.” 

I turn my card over. Ten of diamonds, could be worse. 

Jake sucks in a breath, real slow. “Not bad. My turn.”

Even before he flips the card over I know it’s higher than mine. The queen of clubs appears and he smiles like he just won a pot of gold.

“Well, would you look at that. Guess I’m lucky tonight.” He tilts his head to one side, eyes big and blue.

I don’t know why but I think I find it sweet. That’s it, time to go. I’m startin’ to think crazy, must be the hunger, that makes a man do strange things. 

“Fine, you won,” I mumble, shoving my chair back and standing up. “You can come collect your winnings tomorrow, I ain’t sleeping without a shirt tonight.”

Jake snorts and waves his hand. “I don’t want your clothes, you dumbass. That was just a fun bet. You know what fun is?”

I stare at him. He looks away first. Small victory for me, about time.

“Yeah,” he rubs a hand through his hair, ‘till it’s standing up like a porcupine. “I bet you’re a real fun guy.”

I cram my hat on my head and turn away. Am I relieved or disappointed that he don’t want to collect on the bet? Not sure. Maybe a bit of both. That’s dangerous. Definitely time to go.

“Hey, wait up,” Jake scrambles to his feet. 

I hear him trip over his chair behind me and smile a little. I don’t slow down and I’m out of the saloon door by the time he catches up with me.

“Would you just...urgh, you are a pain in my ass, you know that?” he grumbles, trying to shove the money he’s just won from me into a saddlebag.

“Sorry,” I mutter insincerely and keep walking along the dark street. Where am I going? Hell if I know. I’d like to go to the little cantina, it looks real warm and cozy but right now I ain’t got enough money to feed a flea, let alone myself.

“You hungry?” Jake grabs my arm and pulls me to a halt. 

Maybe I look dangerous or somethin’ cause he lets go as soon as I turn to face him.

“All right, sorry, won’t do that again, no need to look like you wanna kill me in my sleep and leave my body out for the vultures.”

I look him up and down. Is he serious? I wouldn’t do that, not to somebody with a mouth like his anyway. He grins, real hopeful like a puppy wantin’ to be petted. God, he really is just a kid. So am I, but I grew up a long time ago. 

“You wanna get something to eat? I’ll buy. After all, I did take your money, maybe I owe you dinner. Unless you have something else in mind.” He blinks at me and goes from a kid to somethin’ a lot older in a heartbeat. That smile’s a wicked thing and my stomach flips over. 

“Dinner,” I croak.

His face falls but he soon grins again. “I’m hungry, let’s go.”

There’s maybe a dozen paces ‘tween us and the cantina. A little alley leads off the main street, just a track really, winding through the wooden buildings. It’s black as pitch, the lamps from the shops and houses cast light into the middle of the street, not into back alleys like this. 

As we walk past it, the hair on the back o’ my neck prickles and stands up. I can’t see the future or any trash like that, if I could, I wouldn’t have lost so many hands of poker. But I can sometimes feel when trouble’s comin’. An’ right now, it’s jumping straight at us.

Fancy-Vest throws himself out o’ the shadows and grabs Jake round the waist, dragging him off the street and into the dark. 

It ain’t Jake’s fault that he’s taken by surprise, Fancy-Vest moves pretty damn fast. Jake’s down on his knees by the time he figures out what’s goin’ on and starts fighting back.

“Son of a bitch,” he spits, struggling and squirmin’ like a damn fish. 

“Shut up,” Fancy-Vest growls, grabbing for the saddlebag. “Shut up and gimme that.”

I can just about see Jake’s hands tighten on the leather. He ain’t gonna give that up without a fight. Neither am I, considering my money’s in it. What do I do, though? I can’t shoot the bastard, that’d bring far too much attention. I look round real fast but there’s nothing else nearby I can use to knock him out.

Somehow Jake squirms far enough away from Fancy-Vest to land a solid kick to his face. “Get the hell off me, you stupid fucker. Lemme go!”

Fancy-Vest clutches at his nose and falls back, but grabs Jake’s legs again as Jake tries to scramble up. “Nobody steals from me and lives to brag about it, kid.”

I don’t know whether he remembers I’m there, he’s so busy tryin’ to keep hold of Jake, who’s cursing up a storm and still wriggling like a damn snake. In the dark I can’t see much o’ what I’m doing but I get two handfuls of Fancy-Vest’s clothes and pull. He’s real surprised and don’t fight back as I drag him a foot or so away from Jake and the money. 

Jake’s up on his feet in a minute. I can’t see his face so well but I hear his footsteps as he bolts back toward the main street. Shit. Now I’m all alone with this bastard. Great plan, genius. 

“You two working together?” Fancy-Vest grunts as he gets up and swings a punch at me. He’s big and pissed-off and I’m probably gonna get my ass handed to me on a plate.

“What? No,” I reply, dodging punches as best I can. “He cleaned me out, too.”

“Bullshit,” Fancy-Vest spits. “Two o’ you are thicker ‘an thieves. I ain’t leaving town without what’s mine and you’re gonna help me get it.”

I duck and avoid a massive punch aimed at my face but the next one’s faster and catches me right in the gut. Jesus, that hurts. Probably a good thing I ain’t eaten all day, I’d just throw it up on the guy’s boots. As it is I’m doubled over, coughing up bile and it’s burning my damn throat.

Fancy-Vest grabs a handful o’ my hair and pulls me upright. Mother fuck...my eyes are watering and everything hurts. A gun barrel scrapes against my temple and I go real still. Hell, how did my night end up like this? I’m a finger’s twitch away from dyin’ in some back alley in a town nobody’s ever heard of and for what? All ‘cause some kid with a smile like a goddamned angel cheated a sore loser at cards. 

Somethin’ in my chest hurts. Jake ran, he left me. All that flirting meant jack shit, he’s gonna let me die for somethin’ he did. Just goes to show, nobody’s worth trusting these days. Trust makes you weak and gets you killed, guess I’m figuring that out a little too late.

“Where is he?” Fancy-Vest growls in my ear. 

“Don’t know,” I reply, swallowin’ down bile, God above, that tastes foul. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy.” The barrel presses harder against my head. “That little bastard’s got my money and I’ll kill you if I have to, to get it back.”

I narrow my eyes. Did he just call me ‘boy’? My head’s fuzzy but yep, I think he did. The ladies at the orphanage used to call me that. Always hated it. I drive my elbow back into the bastard’s belly ‘fore I can think too much about how I might be dead in half a minute. Don’t think he was expecting that, he lets go of my hair and staggers a couple o’ steps back. Soon as his grip loosens, I run for the street and the lamplight. There’s no real safety there, if the man wants to shoot me, he’ll do it whether people can see him or not. But all the same, bein’ in full view of the town might give him a moment’s pause. That moment’s all I need to find some place to hide.

Where’s Jake gone? More to the point, where’s my money gone? Guess all I can do now is try to avoid Fancy-Vest and get to my horse as fast as I can, then get the hell out of this damned town.

I get back to the main street, it’s quiet and peaceful as the grave. I ignore the shiver which runs down under my shirt. Could’ve been my grave. I rub my temple, can still feel the cold metal barrel against it. Too goddamned close for comfort. I like bein’ on the other end of a gun, being on the receiving end ain’t no fun at all.

I’m so busy thinkin’ about that cold barrel, I run slap into somebody. We both stagger and I end up flat on my back as I fall over my own feet.

I scramble up, cussing all the best swearwords I know and glaring at the dumbass who got in my way. Jake.

“Cougar?” He’s surprised for a minute, I think, but then he smiles. He actually looks relieved. “You all right?”

I blink at him. What’s he doing here? Why ain’t he on a horse and a couple of miles away from this accursed town already?

Fancy-Vest’s voice interrupts ‘fore I can get any words out. “You! Come here, you little bastard and gimme my goddamned money.”

Jake glares at him over my shoulder. He’s as tall as me, I notice for the first time. If he’s as young as I reckon he is, he’ll probably be a mite taller by the time he’s done growing. Don’t know why but I like that idea. Might be nice to look up at him. What am I doing thinking about things like that? I almost got shot a few minutes ago, must be goin’ soft in the head.

I turn to face Fancy-Vest and draw my own gun. 

“Go home.” I sound real firm and determined, I’m impressed. “He ain’t giving you a dime so leave him the hell alone. An’ if you come near me again, I’ll kill ya.” For me, that’s a damned speech. I’m amazed I got the words out.

Fancy-Vest’s eyes slide ‘tween me and Jake, then rest on the Colt in my hand. He’s tryin’ to figure out whether I mean what I say, I can see it. I flex my fingers and aim at his head. He backs up a step and shoves his own gun back into its holster.

“All right, all right, no need to get mean, kid.”

No need to get mean? When the bastard had a gun to my head not long ago? I roll my eyes.

“He said ‘go home’,” Jake growls, coming to stand right beside me. “I don’t see you moving yet.” 

Fancy-Vest eyeballs Jake, who glares right back. He’s got a gun on his hip but he ain’t made no move to draw it yet. Guess he figures I can pull the trigger as easy as he can if it comes to it. 

“You owe me money,” Fancy-Vest says, pointing at Jake. 

“I owe you nothing,” Jake snaps back. “You don’t get refunds in poker. Get moving.”

There’s another glaring contest ‘tween the two of ‘em. Fancy-Vest looks away first. Jake’s rigid beside me, his arm’s brushing mine. He’s warm. 

“I ever see you again, kid, your little friend won’t save you.” 

I grit my teeth. ‘Little friend’? This guy’s gonna deserve the bullet I’m probably gonna have to put in him. I am not little.

Fancy-Vest takes another step away from us, then looks at me. “You best look over your shoulder too, if you ever happen this way again. I don’t forget bein’ cheated and I don’t appreciate having a gun on me.”

I don’t say a word. Jake snorts but stays quiet too. Real slow, Fancy-Vest backs away. ‘Fore long I lose sight of him in the deep shadows and we’re on our own.

Jake lets out a breath, then slaps me on the shoulder. “Good work, amigo. You even had me believing you were the type to shoot a man down in the street.”

I keep lookin’ into the shadows and don’t reply. I might not be that type of man right now, but I can see myself being it. Just the way of the world out here. 

“I’d ask whether you still want that dinner but I think a quick exit might be a better idea,” Jake says. He sounds wistful and my stomach growls in sympathy. “Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere,” I say. It’s true, I ain’t got no plans. Drifting’s good enough for the likes of me.

“Excellent,” he rubs his hands and smiles. “Just where I was going.”

I look at him. He’s taken my money, caused me no end of trouble, made me think things I shouldn’t ought to think about another man, nearly got me shot and made me lose any chance at gettin’ food tonight. And now he wants to ride along with me?

“Fine,” I shrug. What? Why did I say that? I don’t want company, I always travel alone. I don’t like people.

Somehow his hand finds my waist and rests on it, real light. “I’m good company. You won’t regret it.”

His teeth flash as he smiles again and I know I ain’t got a hope in hell of sayin’ ‘no’ to this kid.

“I’m not feeding you,” I growl, stepping away and making sure that hand slides off my waist. It does, but Jake’s careful to trail his fingers down my hip first. Jesus. 

I clear my throat and try to speak again. “And if you’re lookin’ for some kind of hired protection, I don’t do that either.” It’s true, I ain’t gonna be just a gun for hire, not for anybody, even Jake.

He laughs, soft and quiet. He’s a kid but he knows what he’s doing out here in the West. 

“I don’t want hired protection, I can look after myself. And I can feed myself if the need arises, although I’m pretty sure you’ll be better at that side of things than me.”

Sure he can look after himself, he did all right fightin’ with Fancy-Vest.

“You left me,” I blurt. “You little bastard, you ran out on me and left me with that piece of shit.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jake says, real patient, like he’s talking to a child. “I went to hide the money and then I came back for you. Made more sense to make it harder for that idiot to find the cash, didn’t it?”

I frown. As much as I want to tell him he can take his idea of traveling with me and shove it somewhere painful, what he says does make a bit of sense. Even though it left me getting my ass kicked and a gun to my head.

“You still left me,” I say. I ain’t in the mood to be forgiving, I’m too sore and hungry. My stomach still hurts where Fancy-Vest hit me.

“And I’m sorry,” Jake sidles closer and manages to look up at me through his eyelashes. “I’ll make it up to you.”

My stomach twinges again but this time it ain’t painful. I know how I’d like him to make it up to me, but I can’t think like that. I only just met him and I don’t trust him as far as I can spit.

“Get some food we can carry,” I say, steppin’ away from him. “I’ll be at the edge of town with the horses. Which one’s yours?”

“Pick a color,” Jake says, “I came in on the stage.”

“Where’s the money?” I ask.

“Why?” His face hardens and he ain’t the flirty kid any more.

“They don’t give horses away for free,” I explain. 

Why is it I don’t seem to mind talkin’ to Jake? The words ain’t getting messed up in my head and I can actually get ‘em out of my mouth. Strange.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jake nods. “It’s in the stables.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“It was the first place I thought of on the spur of the moment,” Jake says. “I didn’t want to take too long in case that bastard did any real damage to you.” He winces as I rub my stomach. “You hurt much?”

“I’ll live,” I mumble. “Where in the stables?”

Jake pauses for a minute, biting at his mouth.

“I ain’t gonna rob you,” I say.

“How about I get the horses and you get the food?” Jake says.

“How about you do what I tell you?” I snap.

“Who put you in charge?” Jake demands.

“You cheated me,” I say. “You took every cent I had, you got me beaten to hell and I almost had to shoot a man ‘cause of you. I’d say that puts me in charge.”

“That’s a load of bull.” 

I glare at him.

“All right,” he looks away, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “There might be some truth in what you say. But it still doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

We’ll be here all night at this rate. My stomach growls again. “How ‘bout we both get the horses?”

Jake grins. “Now you’re talking.”

Yeah, I am and I probably shouldn’t be. I bite my lip to keep from sayin’ anything more. It’s worrisome how easy the words seem to be flowing at the moment. I ain’t used to it. Scares me a little, if I’m honest. If I ain’t careful, I might end up telling this kid a whole lot more than I want to. Then again, I don’t know that I’d mind that at all.

***

I settle my hat on my head and keep my mouth shut as we head toward the stables. But I let my eyes drift down over Jake’s backside. Damn, it’s good. He slides a glance at me and smiles like he knows exactly what I’m thinkin’. Probably does, tricky little bugger.

We reach the stables and I concentrate on gettin’ my horse saddled and ready. I don’t look at Jake any more than I have to. Well, a few quick looks now and then, but I don’t let him catch me doing it. He’s pretty well-made for a kid. 

Jake wakes up the livery owner and manages to con him out of a nice-looking mare. He grins at me as we ride out of the place, all bright eyes and innocent excitement, his saddlebag safe behind him.

“Food now?”

I nod. Think I might pass out soon if I don’t eat somethin’.

It’s probably ‘cause it’s been a long day and a longer night but I don’t really know how we come to be ambling out of town half an hour later, food we can carry stuffed into our bags and steaming tamales in our hands. They’re probably the best thing I ever tasted. Then again, a man’ll eat anything if he’s hungry enough, I know that all too well.

Jake smiles, he’s got food stuck in his teeth. “So where’re we going?”

I shrug. Thought he wanted to be in charge, why’s he askin’ me? 

Baxter Springs seems peaceful as we drift past the last few buildings and head out into open country. It’s quiet and solid behind us, safe and dangerous all at once. 

It’s late enough, or early enough I guess, for the town to be silent and still. Nobody sees us go, nobody’d care if they did. No sign of Fancy-Vest when I look back but somethin’ tells me he knows we’re leaving. My stomach twists a little as I remember cold metal against my temple. I never intend to get into trouble, trouble just seems to find me.

Jake’s foot brushes mine, he’s riding real close. He looks comfy in the saddle, for all that he sounds like he’s from back East. He’s eating like every other kid I’ve seen, like he can’t get the food into himself fast enough. 

He catches me looking and smiles, but looks down at his reins. His cheeks are puffed out, he’s stuffed so much into his mouth. Ain’t no reason for me to find that sweet but I really do. 

“S’rry,” he mumbles. “Di’n mean t’ gt oo ino ’ouble.”

“What?” I’m not bad at figuring out what people are saying but I ain’t got the faintest idea what he just said.

Jake rolls his eyes and swallows his food. “I said, sorry for getting you into trouble.”

“Oh.” Huh, wasn’t expecting that. 

“You don’t take apologies very well, do you?” 

I pull my hat down ‘cause I’ve got no idea what to say. People ain’t spent a lot of time saying they’re sorry to me. Mostly I’ve been told I’m the one who should be sorry, for bein’ an orphan with no hope of ever doin’ anything important. Not that I feel hard done to or anything. I don’t care that I ain’t got no family, I work better on my own. 

‘Cept I ain’t on my own now, am I? Somehow I’ve got this annoying, loud-mouthed, over-confident, silver-tongued, card-cheating kid riding alongside me. Don’t even know that I dislike the notion of having him around, and that worries me.

Jake stretches his back out and rolls his shoulders. I try real hard not to look at him but I can feel his eyes burnin’ a hole through my hat brim. 

“’S’all right,” I mutter. 

“You gonna forgive me for taking every cent you had?” There’s a smile in his voice and I like it. “For getting you into trouble?” He urges his horse forward a bit and his knee rubs mine. “For getting you hurt?”

“Been hurt before,” I say, keeping my head down. There’s a warm spot on my knee where he’s touching’ me. “Ain’t the first time I lost everything.”

“You haven’t lost everything,” Jake replies, patting the bag behind him. “It’s right here.”

I frown, what’s he talking about? “But it’s yours now.”

He shrugs. “Mine, yours, it’s all the same. If you want it back, you can have it.”

“Thought there were no refunds in poker,” I say.

Jake laughs, throws his head back and really laughs. I can’t help but watch. How can anything be that beautiful? It can’t be right, there’s gotta be some danger somewhere. 

“Normally there’s no refunds,” he says eventually. “But for you I’ll make an exception.”

I duck my head again, I don’t know how to answer that.

“I’ll even forget that last bet you made,” Jake goes on. “Because I’m such a nice guy and all.”

I know exactly what bet he means but I ain’t gonna talk about it. My head’s already full o’ thoughts of gettin’ off these horses and stripping every last stitch of clothes off of the pair of us. Thinkin’ about his face as he decided the shirt on my back would do as a wager ain’t going to help me.

I take a deep breath, it don’t do much, my mind won’t quiet down and my stomach’s as jumpy as a damn jack rabbit.

Jake yawns, then sighs. “Don’t suppose we’ll be sleeping any time soon? I’m beat.”

How far out of town are we? I look over my shoulder, Baxter Springs is barely a glow on the horizon. There’s night all round us and nothin’ but stars and a new moon overhead. Huh, must’ve traveled further than I thought. Guess havin’ Jake around might not be so bad, he takes my mind off just how big the land is, how small I am.

“Can stop now, I reckon,” I mumble, fumbling with the reins. Jake does the same and slides out of his saddle with a moan that sets my fingers to tingling.

The night’s warm round me, ain’t all the way to summer yet but it certainly ain’t cold. I like the dark, it’s easier on my eyes, lets me think. Always did think better at night.

Jake bumps into me. “Are you of any use as far as fires go? I’m not much good at lighting ‘em. But I can cook once you get one going. Well, sort of.”

“No need to cook,” I say, “we got enough food to last us the night. Can cook tomorrow. Fire’ll keep the snakes away though.” 

I pull my little oilskin packet of kindling from my saddlebag and set to making a fire. Jake watches me, I can feel his eyes on my back. ‘Fore long I get some flames going, it’s real cheerful the way they crackle.

There’s enough sticks in the bundle I always keep tied behind my bedroll to keep the fire going a while, long as we don’t get too hasty putting ‘em on.

Jake stares into the flames, think it’s the first time I’ve seen him without the burning need to say something. Never known a man quite so desperate to talk as young Jake. Always seems to me, people talk when they want to keep other folk from hearing what they ain’t saying. What’s Jake got to hide? Everybody’s got somethin’.

He looks up and smiles a little as he sees me. “I like watching the fire. Always have.”

I nod. I know what he means. There’s nothing quite like bein’ out here with nobody but your horse and the stars for company, sitting real peaceful and watching the flames chase each other. Sometimes it makes me glad to be alive. Other times it makes me wonder what in hell I’m doing with my life.

It’s too late to be thinkin’ such things. I’m tuckered out and I got a feeling Jake might be one of those annoying people who’re cheerful in the morning. I don’t like mornings, never could abide ‘em.

I get the saddle off of my mare and set it down, then roll myself in my blanket. It might be warm already but I like a cozy bed. Jake’s still fiddlin’ with his saddle as I close my eyes. Sleepin’ round other people ain’t something I can normally do but right now the hairs on the back o’ my neck are still and there’s no panic creeping up my spine. If the kid wants to kill me in my sleep, well, so be it.

There’s a thump and a curse as he dumps his saddle down next to mine. Sounds like he dropped it on his foot. I smile but don’t open my eyes.

It takes him a while but eventually Jake quiets down and gets himself settled on the ground. He’s right up close to me. I stiffen, why’s he there when there’s perfectly good land everywhere around us? He could be a good few yards away with enough room to stretch out but no, he’s more or less on top of me. 

I sniff and turn onto my side, then try to shuffle an inch or so away from him. It ain’t that I dislike the idea of him bein’ close. Hell no, I like it too much for my own peace o’ mind. I only just met him and he is just a kid, wouldn’t be right for me to do anything tonight. Besides, think for once I might be too tired to do anythin’, sleep’s pulling at me and I can’t do much to fight it.

Jake inches closer and lays himself more or less along my spine. He’s all but got his chin on my shoulder.

“Cold out here at night,” he murmurs.

Ain’t no such thing but I’m too tired to talk. I grunt somethin’ and stagger a bit closer to bein’ asleep.

Jake laughs, real quiet. Sleep-dumb as I am, I wish for a minute that I was facing him so I could see that damned smile again. I shove the thought away. He’ll probably be gone in the morning and good riddance. I don’t need no traveling companion, least of all one who talks as much as him. I don’t trust him and I don’t even know that I like him.

That’s a load of bullshit, of course I like him. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. First minute I saw him I liked him.

“You really can have the money back,” Jake mumbles. He sounds young, guess bein’ nearly asleep makes him forget to act older. “Don’t want you to starve. Only took it ‘cause I was enjoying myself watching you get mad at me. Sorry.”

His breath’s tickling the back of my neck and my toes tingle a little. I grunt again, don’t know how to reply. 

My back’s warm where Jake’s lying against me, it’s cozy. A hand creeps under my blanket and rests on my waist, real light and gentle. Don’t think I’ve ever had anybody actually want to be near me like this. Sure, I’ve slept with people but they ain’t normally in the mood to get comfy afterward. 

Jake sighs, he sounds happy. Why would he be happy? He’s in the middle of Kansas with a guy he just met and cheated at cards. I could kill him in the night and steal everything he’s got. Would I? No. I ain’t a killer yet. And even though I been tellin’ myself otherwise, I do like the kid. Reckon I might let him stick around if he wants. If he don’t want, well, I’ll survive, I always do.

The soft little breeze dies down, it’s a real nice night. I lie there, thinking. First time in years I’ve actually enjoyed somebody’s company. My leg twitches as I remember Jake’s foot sliding up an’ down it. Yeah, I enjoyed that all right.

Maybe if he wants to ride along with me for a bit, I won’t complain. Least if I’ve got company, I won’t go crazy and start talking to my horse.

Comfiest bed I’ve had in a while, I reckon. Jake’s asleep, he’s snoring against my neck. That bit deep in my stomach leaps again, like it does when I’m nervous or excited. I ain’t gonna think ‘bout why I might be nervous or excited just ‘cause Jake’s here, lying right beside me. Nah, that’s stuff I’ll think about in the morning. 

Jake’s a nice kid, I think. Could do with somebody watchin’ out for him if he means to go on cheating people, though. Guess I could do that as well as anyone. If he wants me to. 

Real warm, cozy bed. I stop fighting and drift. Jake mumbles somethin’ behind me, think it’s about food. I smile, he’s really kind of cute.

I fall asleep ‘tween one breath and the next. Tomorrow can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit I'm utterly in love with this time period and with this 'verse. I adore writing these boys and I really hope I get to write stories about them for a long time to come.
> 
> I'd love (seriously, LOVE) to hear what you think of it, dear readers. Yes, it's my usual shameless plea for feedback and comments.


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